


"Something Questionable"

by sir_coriander_cadaverish



Category: Nimona - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25776319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sir_coriander_cadaverish/pseuds/sir_coriander_cadaverish
Summary: The boys are trippin balls!! (Gay Dads AU, pre-Nimona)
Kudos: 3





	"Something Questionable"

**Author's Note:**

> Time for a shitpost!! I wrote this on vacation at the Grand Canyon and frankly I have no explanation for it. Maybe I just wanted to make them get high, argue and then make up. Anyways, this probably isn't canon at all but I think it's kinda funny. Enjoy!

"But guys," Nimona insisted, "You must have done _something_ questionable when you were younger." From the kitchen, Ambrosius snorted. "Sweetie, your father and I did a _lot_ of questionable things growing up-" "But that doesn't mean that you have permission to make the same mistakes we did," Ballister added emphatically. Nimona smiled slyly. "What exactly _did_ you do, dads?" The men paused. Ballister took a deep breath. "Well-"

_*so begins the flashback to the time the boys tried intense psychedelic drugs together in their rented farmhouse when they were 19*_

"No, no, no- _fuck_ this," Ballister slurred, standing up from the couch with difficulty, "How the hell do you not get it?! It's not a question of exis... existentialism, it's a matter of fucking _scientific fact!"_ "Oh, come on, Ballister," Ambrosius shouted, his eyes bloodshot, "Fucking- you just- you know you're wrong, you just won't admit it!" Ballister laughed bitterly, then coughed, then laughed again. "You're such a- hic- such a fucking-" He staggered forward, sneering. "Why do you always act like you know everything?! You literally do not," Ambrosius cried, shoving him away. "Nah, the real question," Ballister retorted, "The real big philosophical question-" he waved his arms around dramatically - "is why you always have to be such a fucking _bitch_." "A bitch?!" Ambrosius shouted, "Just because I see people as more than... fucking, uh... statistics! You're a pretentious fucking" - he blindly tossed a glass - "dick!" Ballister ducked out of the way as it shattered on the wall, cackled again, and then fell into a coughing fit. "Babe, you're high as hell if you can't hit someone two feet away from you." Ambrosius was flushed; sweat beaded on his forehead as he hissed, _"Don't you dare call me 'babe!'"_ Ballister took another swig from whatever was nearby and replied, "Don't call me a-" he coughed - "...don't call me a dick, then." Ambrosius' eyes practically glowed with rage. "Y'know what? Y'know the FUCK what?!" he cried, drunkenly grabbing an empty bottle and pointing it at him, " _Fuck_ you. Fuck you, Ballister. You fucking _suck_. Go talk science to somebody else. I'm done." Ballister felt slightly wounded; a sign the drugs were probably beginning to wear off. He watched Ambrosius storm off. "Fuck me?! Are you kidding? Fuck you! And fuck your hippie psychoanalysis, too," Ballister called out hoarsely as the back door slammed with a shuddering _crack_.   
He groaned loudly, whirling around and furiously knocking the dusty plastic cups from the counter. "This is why I-" he gagged suddenly, took a moment to catch his breath, then continued muttering, "This is why I don't even smoke weed..."

Ambrosius stumbled out into the yard outside, which sloped down steeply from the porch. With a grunt of effort, he threw the glass bottle as hard as he could and watched it fly into the darkness and tumble down the hill. "Fuck!" he shouted at nobody in particular. Then, with a heavy sigh, he sat down on the dry grass and gazed out into the night until the drugs eventually began to fade and he realized that he was crying.

Meanwhile, Ballister stood in the bathroom, fighting waves of nausea and staring at his haggard reflection in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to take control back over his mind. _What just happened?_ he wondered to himself. _Why would we say that stuff to each other?_ For a miserable moment, he hated himself; the boy in the mirror was pathetic, his grey t-shirt faded and sweaty, his eyes encircled with shadows. "Fuck," he muttered before bursting into tears. He remembered the label: _Experimenting with this substance may cause individuals to feel more irritable, violent, anxious, nauseous, emotional, or confused than usual. Proceed with caution._ He sniffled and rubbed his aching eyes. It was beginning to make sense now.

Dizzily, he stepped out onto the porch and spotted Ambrosius, who sat crouched on the yellow grass a few yards away. "Hey, man, I'm sorry!" Ballister yelled. He was met with no response. Brushing the hair from his eyes, Ballister approached Ambrosius and repeated, "Hey. I'm sorry. Really. Shit's messing with my head... I didn't mean anything I said back there, I swear." He sat down next to Ambrosius, whose eyes were even redder than before. "I'm serious," he added, "I'm really sorry, Am-" "I know, I know," Ambrosius finally cut him off, "So am I. I fucking hated that." Cicadas chirped reassuringly in the distance. "Me too," Ballister said. He slung an arm around Ambrosius' shoulders, gently pulling him closer.

"My head still hurts," Ambrosius sighed, his breath pungent with alcohol. Ballister pressed cool lips against Ambrosius' forehead. "I'm sorry, babe," he said sweetly. "Nah," Ambrosius murmured, "It's not your fault." Ballister sighed, still feeling like garbage. It was quiet for a while; fireflies glimmered in the distance. Suddenly, Ambrosius wrapped his arm around Ballister in return. "I love you," he mumbled after a moment. "I love you too," Ballister replied softly. "Are you starting to feel better?" "Kinda," Ambrosius said, adding in a weak voice, "Can we just stay here for a while? ...I don't wanna go back inside yet." Ballister smushed his cheek against Ambrosius' shoulder. "Sure."

\----------

"And we stayed out there for, like, an hour and a half," Ambrosius concluded with a rueful laugh. Nimoma blinked a few times. "Holy cow," she finally said, clearly impressed. "I am _never_ doing drugs."  
"Good," her parents said.

Ballister smiled thoughtfully. "Y'know," he said, "For the rest of that night, and that weekend, I was absolutely terrified. I mean, I was still a little high and a little paranoid, but more than that - I was terrified we'd break up after that fight. So I never mentioned it again." Ambrosius gazed at his husband affectionately. "I was scared too," he said, "Petrified, honestly. I didn't think we could bounce back from something like that. I hardly even wanted to _remember_ that night, let alone mention it." "But you made it through," Nimona piped up cheerfully. "'Cuz then you had _me!"_ Her parents laughed. "Exactly," Ballister said, "And that's the best part of it all."


End file.
